


yesterday's nostalgia

by iwazoomzoom



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Cancer, Death, Doctor Iwaizumi Hajime, Doctor Kuroo Tetsurou, Doctor Oikawa Tooru, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, M/M, Major Illness, Nurse Kozume Kenma, Nurse Takeda Ittetsu, Rating May Change, but maybe not more angst, it needs more love, make sure i finish it, no happy ending just a warning, ukatake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwazoomzoom/pseuds/iwazoomzoom
Summary: “You had cancer?”“Yep.”“How long?”“Seven years.”“Ukai-kun.”“What?”“How come you didn’t tell me.”“Reasons.”--After seven years, Takeda Ittetsu still has dreams of his first love.
Relationships: Background, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	yesterday's nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! welcome to a wild ukatake fic i wrote because i wanted to write something sad. this was originally going to be a one shot, but i need a little more motivation to write it (lmaoo). 
> 
> anyways!! here is the first chapter! i hope someone enjoys it !
> 
> tumblr: iwazoomzoom

“I think we should break up.” It’s his eyes that he always remembered. The brown with auburn flames he saw the stars in.

“You- what?” It’s his own soft voice. Meek. Scared. It always was. 

His voice wanted to argue. He couldn’t give up on them. What good would this bring? What about everything they had planned together?

The dream is far too real. It was frightening how well his brain recaptured everything like the strangest of photographs. It was a mockery of sorts- pointing and laughing in his face and taunting him of all the optimistic dreams he had that involved the man standing before him. 

The wind swept gently, causing the trees to whisper out something close to sympathy for the departing couple. The breeze blew past them, and he could only watch as those broad shoulders began to turn. There wasn’t a second glance thrown back his way, only a wave of one of the hands he found so much solace in. 

It was the finality. 

The end of something he couldn’t put into words. 

To most, hospitals were this eerie enigma of dark corridors and empty hallways with the occasional family walking in to visit a loved one. Flickering lights guided bustling doctors. Wheels of the many beds in the hospital tended to become white noise the more you got used to it. Oftentimes, the only noise audible from endless halls was the heart monitor’s gentle metronome to show life. To a stranger, hospitals were a source of anxiety, of pain, and mostly of loss. 

To others, hospitals were exactly that, but also something more. The chattering of the nurse’s were mostly quiet, save for the occasional giggle or groan of frustration. Binders lined the tops of the counters. Clipboards were stacked in shelves and coffee cups were scattered by ancient computers. 

To some, the hospital was home. It was an awful sort of home where you never knew what would happen but still found some sort of comfort in. Primarily, it was the hope they found comfort in. It was the drive they had to make other’s into the best they could be. 

To Takeda Ittetsu, the hospital was more than that in some way. 

Naturally good with people, the older nurse tended to take his job with a kind smile and even friendlier approach to everything. Patients loved the change of pace that he offered- with big, hopeful brown eyes and a charming personality that provided some form of optimism even if things weren’t crumbling around them. He was empathetic, genuine, and he never minded listening to someone’s stories if he wasn’t busy.

Shoes skidded on the tile floor underneath him as squeaking resounded from underneath his the balls of his feet. The glasses on his nose were pushed forward with a single movement of his pale hands. His fingertips lingered across the top of his glasses as his eyes scanned the nurse’s station. 

A bright crack of laughter was the first thing he heard from behind that familiar desk. There was a break of silence, no motion, and then a cat-like hazel gaze peered from behind the edge of the arched counter. More laughter followed Ittetsu’s cry of shock.

As smart as he was obnoxious, the cardiac resident surgeon himself cackled as he rounded the counter and towards the smaller nurse. Hands tucked into the pockets of his white lab coat, the tall surgeon grinned as he nudged Ittetsu with his shoulder. 

“Good morning, Kuroo-san,” Takeda mused, watching his junior roll his hazel eyes with his usual smirk.  
“Kuroo is fine, ya’ know.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” 

“Suit yourself,” a chuckle left Kuroo’s lips as he shook his head. 

Reaching over the countertop and to the binder sitting by the center computer, Kuroo slowly plucked the binded documents into his hands. The book of these particular medical records were thick and worn. Ittetsu could tell just by the frayed edges that many doctors had leafed through the papers in hopes of finding something. 

Right away, Ittetsu knew that this patient was one of those patients. His suspicions were confirmed when he glanced up into the surgeon’s eyes. The other man’s gaze was usually calm despite the mischief swimming around in there. However, there was that smoke hazing about that was all too familiar with some doctors. 

Defeat, perhaps. 

With the thick white folder placed between his palms, Ittetsu instantly opened it as Kuroo’s directions were given like a sort of background music. Naturally, his eyes casted across the basic health records. The patient was a thirty-two year-old male who came into the hospital about six years ago with symptoms including shortness of breath and a chronic cough. 

Why did he have to be so young? 

Throughout the several pages listed, it seems that the man had gone to several other hospitals and specialists in search of some other opinion than the practical death sentence he was given. The one diagnosis was present. It was jarring and all of the follow up appointments were extensive. Ittetsu could practically see the man’s fighting spirit in the records before he even met the patient. 

The diagnosis spread the bottom of the page in big bold letters. The words always reminded him of the church bells before an old-time execution. It was the beginning of an end. 

Stage four small-cell lung carcinoma that has been spreading at a rapid rate throughout his body. It had been in remission for a couple years, but had come back suddenly and in full force. This was his first time back in a hospital since remission began. 

And now, he was only expected to last five months. 

Cancer was a bitch.

“He’s in Room 204,” Kuroo nodded. “You should go meet him. Kenma was put on a different case and the guy could use a conversation.” 

Promptly agreeing, the smaller nurse turned and began his trek to the 200 hallway on the same floor after tucking the binger under his arm. It wasn’t a long walk by any means, and Ittetsu knew he could usually make it pretty quickly. His thoughts swam, however, and he couldn’t help but stare at the ground as he rounded the corner of the hallway. 

Curiosity struck him. It was always a good idea to know the patient’s name before going in to meet them, and Ittetsu was by no means rude to the patients. 

Flipping the binder back into his open palms, the nurse peered down at the documents once again through thick glasses. 

There was a moment where Ittetsu felt his world stop around him. Suddenly, the lingering feeling that had been present in his chest for the last six years took a grip back on his heart and squeezed until he almost lost his breath. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, resounding a deep and monotone tone as it picked up in speed. Before he could process anything, the binder tumbled from his hands and he was running. 

Ukai Keishin.

The dreams he has been having for six years are hitting him like the most powerful of tidal waves. The loneliness had been aching his heart for so long that he was never sure he could mend the damage that had been done to it. 

Not even acknowledging the numbered plaque on the door, he felt his hand clench onto the door frame as he finally made his way to it. His chest was heaving in nervousness, and the fluttering in his stomach hadn’t stopped since he left the binder abandoned in the hallway. He had to know if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he was just going crazy.

It couldn’t be him. 

It couldn’t. 

Why here and why in these circumstances? 

The sight of the man before him unblurs every single dream he has been having for the last six years. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the brightness that he has always seen in the man before him. It was the same golden hair like the sun they spent their best times in together, soft to the touch despite the intense amounts of bleach. It was the same warm, tan skin and freckled cheeks that the man often grumbled about. 

And then, it was those dark eyes with such a fighting fire that could never be extinguished.


End file.
